Brothers of the Heart
by wolfspeaker01
Summary: Seto Kaiba has always been very protective of his younger brother, so how will he react to finding out that Mokuba was Harry Potter before Seto decided to "adopt" him? Will Dumbledore be able to convince them that 'Harry Potter' must go to Hogwarts? Indefinite Hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**_Brothers Of The Heart_**

Seto Kaiba has always been very protective of his younger brother, so how will he react to finding out that Mokuba was Harry Potter before Seto decided to "adopt" him? Will Dumbledore be able to convince either Seto or Mokuba that 'Harry Potter' needs to go to Hogwarts?

**-WARNINGS-****  
There will be slash (boyxboy)!  
Child abuse, Dumbledore bashing (although he won't be evil so much as extremely manipulative, if only slightly well-meaning), possible Weasley/Hermione/Ministry bashing as well, though nothing is set in stone yet.**

**Enjoy the Story!**

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The Dursleys had been planning their business trip/vacation to Japan for months, and so it was with horror that Vernon Dursley received the news that Mrs Figg, the only person they could find who was willing to take four-year-old Harry Potter in for a full week, was no longer able to do so, something about a death in the family. They were leaving in two days, that left little to no time to find a new babysitter. After discussing options with Petunia, Vernon ruled out leaving the freak in the cupboard all week, Petunia didn't want to have to deal with the smell, and it was decided that they would have to take him with them.

It was with great reluctance, though, that Vernon went about getting Harry a ticket. Luckily, or not he grumbled to himself, the man was able to procure another seat on such short notice. Granted it was one of the cheapest seats, not first class like his family's seats, but he wouldn't have paid extra for the freak even if it had been in the plans all along.

- - - - - - -

The ragged boy had expected to be set to work when he was yanked from his cupboard that morning, so when he was tossed in the tub and told to wash himself, he did so as quickly as possible. Emerging from the cold water to find clean clothes only a size or two too big for him brought a small smile to his lips. Maybe his relatives had decided that he wasn't a freak, maybe they were trying to make up for their actions...

The car ride was a novelty, never having been in one he enjoyed the new experience, although he had to force himself to keep from squealing with excitement. His aunt had given him a piece of toast before they left, it hadn't even been burnt, and he wanted to do nothing that would make them change their minds.

The small boy stared in wonder out the airplane window, he was so high up. The cars looked like quick, little ants running down the roads. He wondered what everything would look like from the ground; he hadn't been allowed outside of his cupboard that often, much less outside the house – except for when he was sent to tend the garden. Vaguely he wondered where his aunt, uncle and cousin were, Uncle Vernon had warned him to behave before handing him over to a nice lady in a blue dress as they got on the plane. He smiled at the memory, fingering the small wingssticker she had given him, appreciating the fact that Dudley wasn't there to steal it from him.

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The plane arrived in Japan without incident, and Harry was led off by the stewardess who delivered him to the Dursleys. Then he was dragged along behind them, with a growl from Vernon at having to touch the freak.

Once in the motel, Harry was tossed into a corner, where he sat, staring at his relatives as they prepared to go out. Dudley was set down on the bed, the bag overflowing with his toys next to him. Dudley looked from the toys to Harry, as if trying to decide something.

The next thing Harry knew, he was being bombarded with hard objects, shrinking into the corner in an effort to protect himself. Dudley was laughing, gleefully throwing his toys as hard as he could. The two adults were ignoring the children, Dudley was happy and that was all that mattered.

The corner of a particularly hard block hit Harry's head and he yelped in pain. Then, there was nothing. Had Dudley's aim failed? He peeked through his fingers to find a shiny wall protecting him. He could see the toys bouncing off of it. Dudley's laughter turned to cries of frustration that caught his parents attention.

Petunia turned around, and saw the shield and the toys bouncing back. It was then that one toy thrown particularly hard rebounded, clipping Dudley's arm as it flew past him. The boy promptly burst into tears. "Vernon, he's using _it_!" She grabbed her son off the bed, backing away from the smaller boy's show of magic. Her husband approached the blue shield, his face growing redder with every step. Seeing his uncle's anger, Harry squeezed his eyes closed, willing the _freakish_ shield to go away. It vanished, though Harry did not notice until he was lifted into the air by the firm grip on his shirt.

"Boy," Vernon's voice held anger and apprehension, though all Harry knew was that it meant punishment – he had been bad and lost any chance for his relatives to love him. "You dare to hurt our Dudley with your... evil freakishness!" He dropped Harry to the floor, where the small boy's arm cracked as he landed on it.

The large man slipped his belt off, ignoring the child's whimper of pain, and began to beat him, the belt whistling through the air with each stroke. Petunia watched the brutish display with satisfaction, as she held her large son tightly, the boy had hurt her son, and therefore deserved every painful moment of his punishment.

Harry curled himself into a ball as the belt struck his body, silent tears streaming down his face. He hadn't meant to be bad, he couldn't help it. Vernon, somehow unsatisfied by the near lack of reaction, turned the belt around, the metal clasp no longer a handle, but a weapon. The belt buckle hit Harry's side, drawing blood as the boy screamed, no longer able to hold the pain in. Vernon smiled smugly, bringing the belt up for another swing.

Again and again, the belt fell on the helpless boy, only stopping when the obese man's arm grew tired. A few solid kicks to the boy's torso finished off the beating, leaving Vernon standing over the now unconscious boy, a look of triumph on his face.

Suddenly, there was a quick knock on the door. Vernon and Petunia froze – as much as the freak deserved his punishment there was no way they could explain it without giving up their hard-earned image of normality.

Moving with unnatural speed for someone so large, Vernon kicked the boy under the bed, where he was hidden from sight by the bed-skirt. Petunia covered the carpet that the boy had been laying on with a small blanket, setting Dudley down on top of it, along with a few of his toys to keep him happy.

A quick glance across the room made sure that everything appeared normal, and Vernon opened the door with an annoyed "Yes?"

"Mr. Dursley?" The uniformed man read the name from a slip of paper held in his hand before glancing at the large, quickly reddening man in front of him.

Vernon nodded apprehensively, "There have been several complaints about the noise. I realize that you have children," the man nodded towards the toddler on the floor who was banging two of his toys together violently, "but I must warn you, this is a highly regarded establishment and we will have to ask that you keep the noise to a minimum. The other guests have the right to a peaceful stay, and if it is necessary, we will be forced to remove you from the premises."

"Of course," Vernon sighed in visible relief, "We'll do our best to keep the noise down." The man nodded farewell, before turning to walk away. The door shut behind him with a loud bang as Vernon pulled it closed.

"Pet, pack the bags." Vernon knelt down to reach under the bed, grabbing the boy's ankle and yanking him out of hiding. "We're going to make sure the freak will never hurt our Dudley again."

Petunia rushed over to the suitcases, shoving the items that had been pulled out in their short time there back in forcefully. "What about the other freaks?" She asked, her expression guarded with apprehension, though she didn't look away from her task.

"It's been three years, Pet. Not once have they checked up on him. We could have left him out in the cold that first day and he would have followed his parents." Vernon grimaced at the thought that taking the brat in had been completely pointless. "And if they do come around looking for him, we'll just tell them the truth – that we would not stand for him hurting our son, so we had to get rid of him."

Petunia looked towards her husband, the fear in her eyes slowly dissipating. "What will we do with the boy? They'll know if we just leave him to die in an alley."

"We'll find an orphanage – leave him on the front step just as he was left on ours. Their kind deserves nothing less. And that way, if he dies, it will not be our fault."

With the conversation finished, it was only a matter of minutes before the small family was ready to leave. Vernon pulled the luggage stacked on the wheeled trolley, Petunia pushed Dudley in his stroller, the diaper bag full of toys stashed in the basket. They appeared to be a perfectly normal family of three, with the broken body of the freak hidden in the topmost bag in their pile of luggage.

They managed to check out with very little delay, the manager had not been pleased about the noise that had come from their room, and as such was extremely glad they had taken it upon themselves to leave before he had to force them to.

Young Harry's fate was decided in the hour following their exit from the hotel, though he did not know it. The Dursleys had hailed a cab and ordered the driver to take them to the nearest orphanage. Not even bothering to learn the name of the institute, Vernon carried the boy to the steps, Petunia and Dudley waiting in the cab. Pulling the boy out of the bag, ignoring his state of unconsciousness and his muted whimpers, he laid the broken child on the steps, keeping the bag as he ran (though it resembled a fast waddle) back to the car.

- - - - - - - insert line - - - - - - -

Some believe in fate, while others believe that 'fate' is nothing more than coincidence. Either way, whether it was fated or merely coincidental, it was no accident that the orphanage door was opened, only moments after the Dursleys drove away, by a small boy – one who would grow to need Harry just as much as Harry needed him now, though neither of them knew it yet.

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Does everything make sense?

Questions, Comments, Concerns?

Just to clarify the abuse bit: before the trip, the most damage Vernon/Petunia inflicted was a swat on the head, depriving him of food for a day or two, or locking him in his cupboard for a period of time. They have been verbally abusing him since before he could understand their words, but never any _serious_ physical abuse. But, that was his first act of accidental magic, and since Dudley was hurt, no matter how minor that hurt really was, the Dursleys' fear and anger at the sight of magic was increased.

The shield didn't protect him from Vernon because he didn't want it to come back. He willed it to go away, and it did.

Oh, just in case I didn't make it clear enough, Harry has no idea that he has a name. He has never been called by his name, only 'freak', 'boy', and other similarly derogative names.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Brothers Of The Heart**_

Seto Kaiba has always been very protective of his younger brother, so how will he react to finding out that Mokuba was Harry Potter before Seto decided to "adopt" him? Will Dumbledore be able to convince either Seto or Mokuba that 'Harry Potter' needs to go to Hogwarts?

**-WARNINGS-****  
There will be slash (boyxboy)!  
Child abuse, Dumbledore bashing (although he won't be evil so much as extremely manipulative, if only slightly well-meaning), possible Weasley/Hermione/Ministry bashing as well, though nothing is set in stone yet.**

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Seto had set out that night in a fit of emotion, needing something more than the worn familiarity of the orphanage to cool his temper. He had always been a loner, even before his parents had died only a year ago. His unusual intelligence for his age had always set him apart from the other children, the only ones who had ever gotten up the courage to talk to him were the ones who had wanted him to do their homework or let them cheat off of his tests. He would do his best to be friendly without giving in to their demands, but in the end, they had no use for him, often repaying his efforts by stealing his lunches or pushing him down the slide. Eventually, he had closed in on himself, only allowing himself to _be_ himself around his parents, and when they had died, only days before his mother had been due to give birth, it had shredded what was left of his heart.

Being passed from relative to relative before being shunted off to the orphanage had done nothing to repair his damaged soul; his family had not had the willingness to care for such an socially dysfunctional boy, no matter how smart he was, the children at the orphanage shunned him, not liking his differences, the matron for all her kindness could not see through his mask, believing as most did, that he truly was an unsociable, unruly boy.

Seto was alone in the world, and sometimes, when the loneliness became too much for him, he would escape. He would pack a small snack, pull on his sneakers, and slip out the front door when no one was looking. He'd learned over time that if he left just before it got dark, and returned before the sun rose, no one would notice his disappearance.

This time, his need to escape had been triggered by the mocking laughter of his fellow orphans. They had pulled his worn family picture off of his bed frame and teased him with it, handing it off to someone else when he was close enough to get it back, all the while laughing at his desperate cries. When they finally relented, mostly due to the interference of the caretaker, the picture was dropped to the floor, wrinkled and torn. He had smoothed it back out to the best of his ability, tears that he would not allow to fall burning in his eyes.

Unable to stand being around anyone any longer, Seto made his escape, not even taking time to grab food, just snatching his jacket from the closet and running out. Unfortunately, he had not even stepped out of the door when he tripped over a surprisingly solid pile of dirty rags, sliding down the stairs to hit the ground with a thud. Rubbing his backside tenderly, he turned to see what exactly it was that he had tripped over.

Carefully scanning the pile, he was able to make out the frail body laying there, drowning in the rags, that now appeared to be clothing. "Hey!" Seto poked the child, trying to get its attention. "Wake up." He moved closer to shake the child awake, only to find that what he had believed to be dirt, was actually blood, not yet dried, and bruises. Eyes widening, he stepped carefully over the unmoving body, before pulling the door open and calling for the matron.

"Fuji-san! There's a kid out here! He looks bad!" He cried, his voice shaking as he looked back at the limp body.

Everyone came running, if only to see what had brought such emotion into the normally stoic boy. Thankfully, Fuji-san was at the head of the pack. "Where is he?" Seto gestured towards the step, and the matron had to take a step back as she took in the visible damage. Ayame Fuji was a kind woman who loved children and seeing such a small child with such obvious wounds cut deeply. "Keiichi," She pointed to one of the older children, "Call for an ambulance." The boy took off running, as Ayame knelt down on the stairs.

Seto crouched next to her, his eyes on her face. "Will he die?" He asked, in all seriousness.

"Maybe." Had it been anyone else, any of the other children, Ayame would have done her best to reassure them that the child would recover, but Seto... Seto needed the truth. "It's difficult to tell how badly he's injured, but it doesn't look good. He's so small..."

Seto just nodded, apparently satisfied with that answer, as he turned his eyes towards the child's face. Matted strands of dark hair fell over his closed eyes, the bruises standing out on his pale skin, and when the child let out a pain-filled whimper, Seto could feel a twinge of... something. This child was unwanted, alone, just as he was.

Suddenly, the child moved, his head turning as his eyelids lifted slowly. Seto gasped as eyes of brilliant emerald met his, their shine only somewhat dulled by the fear lurking in them, and the child spoke, "_S-sorry. Fweak be good. No more hurt..." _The last of his strength was gone, and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

The other children were chatting amongst themselves, most had recognized the strange language as English, but were not fluent enough to recognize the meaning. Seto, on the other hand, _had_ understood the words, and the feeling he couldn't recognize came back stronger, a painful ache in his chest. As he tried to understand it, his eyes still glued to the child's face, the ambulance arrived, the medics quickly and carefully lifting the unconscious child onto a stretcher.

Seto watched with hope as Ayame followed them into the vehicle, leaving instructions for the children to behave and be in bed by nine, now the child had a chance. All thoughts of leaving fled as he watched the ambulance drive off, lights flashing as the siren wailed, he had to be here, he had to know if the child lived. When no sign of the ambulance could be found, he turned to go in, the loneliness that he hadn't realized had gone returning full strength, and he knew that the child had to make it.

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Sleep refused to come to the boy laying in his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Images of the tiny boy danced across his vision, eyes pleading as he begged for '_no more hurt'_. How could anyone deliberately bring pain to one so... delicate? The boy couldn't have been more than two, maybe three years old, and yet he had sounded... resigned, as if he didn't expect anyone to listen to his plea.

The sound of a door opening and closing brought Seto from his thoughts. Realizing that it must be Ayame, he slipped out of his bed silently, making his way towards the front room.

"Who- Seto? Are you still up?" Her voice was weary, as she made her way towards her office. "I suppose you want to know about the boy?"

Seto nodded, his hands clenched into fists as he tried to keep his hopes from rising. Ayame took a seat, gesturing for Seto to do the same. He did so, and for a moment, the two of them just stared at each other. Tearing her eyes away, the caretaker was the first to speak, her words chosen carefully, "He will live..." Seto exhaled in relief, the tension fading from his small frame, only to return as Ayame held up her hand, "He will live, but it will be difficult. He's malnourished, the doctors believe him to be at least four, despite his small size, he has numerous broken bones – his arm, his legs, his ribs – and he appears to have been beaten quite soundly." Seto 's eyes were wide, though he began fidgeting as she came to the end of the list of injuries, "Would..." he paused, before continuing, blurting out the sentence , "Would it be possible for me to go see him sometime?"

Ayame studied the nervous boy in front of her, he appear genuinely worried about the strange, hurt child, something she never would have believed had she not seen it with her own eyes. It would be good for the abused child if he had a friend, and Seto's quiet personality wouldn't be as overwhelming as the more energetic children's. She smiled to herself, before answering, "I don't see why not. He should be up to visitors in a few days, I can take you myself." Seto nodded, giving her a small, but completely genuine, smile before he stood up and walked to the door.

Turning to face her as he closed the door behind him, Seto whispered a quiet "Thank you." before pushing the door shut. Ayame's lips bent upwards in a grin – for the first time since he had come here, the solitary boy had smiled. Maybe being around the child would be good for him. She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes as she rested for a moment, she'd just have to wait and see, wouldn't she.

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Well, it's a bit short, but I like where it ends. I'll do my best to make future chapters longer, but no promises.

Does everything make sense? There's really no information on Seto's family before he was a Kaiba, and I didn't want to make up a last name, so he's just Seto for now.

Feel free to leave some constructive criticism. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

_**Brothers Of The Heart**_

Seto Kaiba has always been very protective of his younger brother, so how will he react to finding out that Mokuba was Harry Potter before Seto decided to "adopt" him? Will Dumbledore be able to convince either Seto or Mokuba that 'Harry Potter' needs to go to Hogwarts?

**-WARNINGS-****  
There will be slash (boyxboy), child abuse, Dumbledore bashing (although he won't be evil so much as extremely manipulative, if only slightly well-meaning), possible Weasley/Hermione/Ministry bashing as well, though nothing is set in stone yet.**

"Words" are in Japanese.

"_Words" _are in English.

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Seto stared blankly at the book in front of him, his thoughts on the abandoned boy. He had been distracted for the past three days, and it was only getting harder for him to concentrate on anything else the longer he waited. Ayame's daily visits to the hospital, and her subsequent reports to Seto, did little to quell his anxiety, rather they fueled his need to see the boy with his own eyes. Her promises to take him to the hospital the first day that the boy was well enough to have visitors were the only thing keeping Seto from sneaking out and catching a bus.

So when Ayame appeared in the doorway, Seto noticed her almost immediately, putting his book down as he stared at her expectantly. She gave him a bemused smile as she nodded. Eyes alight with anticipation, Seto grabbed his coat and shoes and was waiting at the front door in moments, restraining himself from bouncing with impatience, the caretaker smiling as she followed him.

It was a short drive to the hospital, though it felt much longer to Seto, as did the walk through the building to the boy's room. His whole body seemed to be shivering in anticipation, though he held himself stiffly, refusing to act "childish". The children who tormented him on a daily basis acted childish, and he had no desire to emulate their behavior in any way. Though a small part of his mind wondered fearfully if his boy would be scared off by the mask as so many older children had.

Ayame paused in front of a door, her hand on the knob. "Seto." The boy stared at her unblinking, "I don't know why you're so interested in this boy, but I will not bring you back if you do anything to worsen his already fragile mental health. Understand?"

For a moment, Seto's eyes betrayed him as they widened in shock - it hurt that she thought he would do anything to harm the fragile boy he'd found - _his_ boy. And then the moment passed as quickly as it had come, and he nodded.

Opening the door, the caretaker moved so that Seto could enter first. And he did so, though his pace was unusually slow as it seemed to dawn on him that this would be where any positive relationship he was to have with the small child would be made or broken.

"Go on! What happened to all that energy?" Fuji-san gave Seto a gentle push that nearly sent him tumbling to the floor. He gave her a cold glare as he caught himself which she returned with an apologetic smile. Frowning, Seto looked away, remembering why he didn't trust people in the first place.

Thankfully, though, she seemed to get that he would do this at his own pace, and merely took a seat just inside the door.

Seto approached the bed, only to stop as he neared the head, merely staring at the delicate face of the child. He couldn't bring himself to look at the clean white casts on both the boy's legs and his right arm or the tube that had been inserted into one of the veins in his arm. And then, the brilliant emerald eyes lifted from their downward gaze, effectively freezing the older boy in his steps.

It was all Seto could do to remember to breathe as he stared into the guarded orbs, the shadow of the boy's past haunting his wary gaze. And yet there was still a glimmer of childish curiosity peeking out from the shadows, a sight that made a part of him sigh in relief. This child was damaged, but not broken beyond repair. He could still have a childhood.

Taking another step brought him to the very edge of the bed, the child's eyes still fixed on him.

"Hey."

The child scrunched his face up in confusion, and Seto remembered that he had spoken English. _ "Hi."_

The small face lit up, though his eyes remained shadowed, _"...Hi."_

_"My name is Seto. What is your name?" _ Seto's voice was stilted, as he tried to make sure he was using the correct words, but the small boy understood.

_"...Freak." _Seto blinked, staring at the child. Surely he had heard wrong... or maybe it was a different word that he was thinking of. The child fidgeted under his scrutiny.  
_  
"I do not think Freak is a name. Who calls you that?" _Ayame glared at him, even as the child shivered, sensing his displeasure.  
_  
"Aunt 'Tun'a an' Unc'e Vern'n say I'm 'freak'... or 'boy'. It's not my name?" _The boy asked in a quivering voice, glancing up at Seto through his bangs.

Seto hesitated, he felt like he should offer comfort, but had no idea how to actually go about doing it. Tears threatened to fall from wide emerald eyes, even as Seto watched, frozen with indecision. When one wet droplet began to slide down a small cheek, Seto gave up on his 'logical' thought process, and just did what felt right.

He moved his hand to the delicate face, wiping the tear away as he jumped up to sit on the edge of the bed. He didn't dare move the injured boy, but settled for grabbing and stroking the unbroken hand. "_No. It is not your name."  
_  
"_I don' have a name?"_

The forlorn tone was resigned, Seto nearly growled at the child's meek acceptance that he had no name. Before he even realised what he was doing, Seto acted on his feelings. "_I can give you a name if you would like."_

The curious tilt to the head was accompanied by a curious frown, "_What name?"_

It was an impulsive answer he gave, one he might have changed had he given it thought, but he looked over the tousled black hair and the shadows fading from brilliant green eyes, and there was nothing to think about. "Mokuba."

"_Mow-koo-ba? Me?"_

Seto's mother had chosen that name, one that would have belonged to Seto's baby brother, had she not died before he was born. And now Seto had given it to a boy he felt unnaturally close to. A boy who needed it more than Seto could imagine.

He smiled, "_Yes. You like?"_

_"Mowkooba.... My name is Mowkooba." _Seto couldn't help but grimace at the pronunciation as he nodded. The child's face was alight with wonder, warming Seto's heart, "_I'm Mowkooba!" _Then his eyes fell to the bed, as he stuttered out a quiet, "_Thank you."_

Looking away, Seto nearly blushed. The sincerity behind the thanks made him want to wrap himself around the dark-haired child and never let him go. And the strength of his still-growing attachment was beginning to scare him.

"_Are... are you my friend?" _The boy- Mokuba's voice was quiet, dashing out all of the words in a single breath.

"_Friends?" _Seto asked, wondering if he had heard wrong. When Mokuba nodded his head, Seto couldn't help his amazement. His mouth agape as he stared at the small boy, a small voice in the back of his mind wondering if this was how Mokuba had felt at getting a real name. "_You want to be my friend?"_

Mokuba nodded, the smile on his face warm and inviting. "_I never had a friend before, but I like you."_

"Sure_- Of course. I like you too_, Mokuba_. I would like to be your friend_." Returning the smile, Seto sent a grateful thought out to whatever fate or being had caused this small boy to wind up on that particular doorstep.

_"What does _'sure' _mean_?" Mokuba's voice was cautious, the light in his eyes dimming as he tensed. Seto bristled, why was asking a question, especially one so logical as this, causing such a reaction in the small boy? Knowing that Mokuba might take it the wrong way, Seto shoved his anger to the back of his mind and answered the question.

"_It means 'yes'." _ The light brightened as green eyes seemed to think that over.

"_Not English? Is that why you talk funny?"_

Stifling a snort, Seto grinned, "_Yes. That is why I 'talk funny'. This is _Japan. _Most people speak _Japanese. _We learn English in school, but don't speak it all the time."_

_"Can I learn J_a- Jap'nese?"

"_You say, _Jap - an - ese."

"Jap - en - ese. _Did I say it right?" _Mokuba looked at him so eagerly that Seto couldn't help but compare him to a puppy begging for treats after performing a trick.

Chuckling, he nodded. "_Close enough."_

_"Can I learn it?" _And now the emerald orbs seemed to double in size, reaffirming the 'begging puppy' comparison.

Unable to say 'no' to the wide-eyed puppy eyes, Seto smiled again. "Sure."

"_That means 'yes'! Right?"  
_

Seto nodded, "_We will start with _'me'_. It means 'me'..."_

Smiling, Mokuba repeated the word, first in Japanese and then again in English. The rest of the time flew by, as Seto enjoyed sharing what he knew and Mokuba soaked in everything he could, determined to understand this other language.

Before either boy realized it, visiting hours were over, Ayame calling Seto over as she stood to leave. "Come on Seto. It's time to leave."

_"_Can I come back tomorrow." Seto was reluctant to release his hold on the smaller boy's hand, even as Mokuba returned it with a fierce intensity.

"Perhaps. I don't see that it would hurt."

"_What are you saying? Seto?" _Mokuba was worried, the anxious longing in the older boy's voice was obvious, even if he couldn't understand the words.

"_I have to leave." _Tears welled up in Mokuba's eyes, and Seto was quick to continue, "_Please do not cry. I will come back tomorrow, but now it is time for you to rest." _Opening his mouth to protest that he didn't need rest, that he just needed Seto to stay, Mokuba didn't even get a sound out before Seto's finger rested on his lips. "_You are injured. You need rest. I __**will**_ _come back."_

"_Promise?"_

_"I promise."_

_"'kay. What's G'bye?"_

_"_See you later."

"See you later, Seto." Mokuba spoke slowly, carefully repeating the words exactly as they had been said to him.

Smiling, Seto returned the words, _"_See you later_, _Mokuba." The proud smile he received glowed with an energy that seemed to draw him in, and his reluctance to leave grew stronger.

Dragging his feet, he walked as slowly as he could while still being considered 'in motion'. In the end, Ayame had to grab his arm and nearly drag him along behind her as the nurse watched with smiling eyes.

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Good, Bad, Mediocre?

Am I going too fast?

Just a note for those who have asked about pairings: the main pairings will be boyxboy, but they will not be a large part of the story, nor will they even begin to come up until later in the story.

Thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Brothers Of The Heart**_

Seto Kaiba has always been very protective of his younger brother, so how will he react to finding out that Mokuba was Harry Potter before Seto decided to "adopt" him? Will Dumbledore be able to convince either Seto or Mokuba that 'Harry Potter' needs to go to Hogwarts?

**-WARNINGS-  
There will be slash (boyxboy), child abuse, Dumbledore bashing (although he won't be evil so much as extremely manipulative, if only slightly well-meaning), possible Weasley/Hermione/Ministry bashing as well, though nothing is set in stone yet.**

"Words" are in Japanese.

"_Words" _are in English.

To everyone who reviewed, alerted, and favorited, Thanks.

* * *

Seto kept his promise, returning to the hospital the next day. And the next day. And he continued coming day after day, having Ayame drive him up right before visiting hours began and staying until she dragged him out as they ended.

On the days that Ayame couldn't take him or whenever she pulled him away from his shaggy-haired obsession early, Seto begged the use of her telephone, calling Mokuba and racking up the bill as he chatted with the injured boy. It was nowhere near as fulfilling as watching Mokuba's emerald eyes light up his face as he became excited about the topic of conversation - which could vary from details of the Japanese language to favorite animals - but it was better for both of them then no contact at all.

And so, having been nearly driven to exhaustion by Seto and Mokuba's need for each other, the other childrens care, and her other duties on top of that, it was to Ayame's great relief that the time came for Mokuba to be released from the hospital exactly two weeks after he had been found on the steps.

It was Mokuba who shared the news in his choppy Japanese as Seto walked through the door, "Seto! I go with you today! No more hospital!"

Seto froze mid-step, his eyes going wide. A cautious glance towards Ayame was rewarded with a smiling nod.

His face lit up with joy, "Mokuba's coming home with us?" Ayame chuckled, but nodded once again.

The boy launched himself at the woman, wrapping his arms around her, mumbling "Thank you! Thank you!" over and over again. It was the most affection he'd ever shown, and Ayame was glad to return the embrace.

Once she did so though, Seto realized the spectacle he was making of himself, and he pulled away quickly, his face red with embarrassment.

"Sorry."

Ayame just smiled, "There's nothing to be sorry for."

Seto smiled back shyly before dashing to the bed. He jumped up to sit on the edge as he began to tell Mokuba all about the orphanage. "Fuji-san is in charge of us. She's..." he looked up at the woman's curious eyes, waving her away. Laughing quietly, Ayame complied with his unspoken demand, as she left with the nurse to finish up the necessary paperwork. "She's actually very nice, even if she tries to be strict. The other children are... not so nice. They don't like me, but I'm sure that you could make friends with them."

Mokuba tilted his head to the side, "Fuji-san nice, but kids not? You want me be friends with not-nice? Why?"

Seto frowned, "I don't know. . . so that you have friends?" He looked away from Mokuba's searching eyes.

"Have friend. Seto."

Stunned into silence, the older boy gave Mokuba a gentle hug. Seto knew that Mokuba was likely to change his mind, especially after the other children told him what they thought of Seto, but it was nice to dream.

X

Visiting hours had not yet ended, but Ayame had returned with a nurse and a wheelchair. Seto watched anxiously as Mokuba was lifted into the chair, three of his limbs still encased in a now-colorful plaster - it had been the work of four hours and many, many markers that had left Seto's hands stained with ink to color all three casts. The tension in the small child's body was obvious, and Seto wished he could rip him out of the nurse's hands. Once settled into the chair, Mokuba was able to relax, helped along by Seto's calming smile. Mokuba was dwarfed by the chair, his legs not even close to reaching the foot rests, and Seto couldn't help but note the remarkable resemblance he bore to a porcelain doll.

Seeing Ayame about to move into place behind the chair, Seto ran in front of her. Wrapping his hands around the handles, he stood on tiptoe to look over the chair and down at Mokuba. "Ready to go?"

"Yes!" was Mokuba's enthusiastic reply.

"Careful Seto-kun." Ayame warned gently, as she walked around them to open the door.

Seto nodded, hiding his offense at the thought that he would do anything less than handle his new friend as gently as if he were made of glass. She was only doing her job.

The trio moved down the hall slowly, Seto refused to walk too fast and Ayame was perfectly willing to accommodate him. Mokuba didn't care either way, too busy alternating between staring around at all the people in awe and shrinking away whenever someone came too close.

Seto only smiled at his curious eyes, and glared at anyone who dared to make _his_ Mokuba nervous. It wasn't quite as effective as he would have liked, several women returned his glare with smiles and whispers of 'so cute', and he made a mental note to practice more.

Eventually, the trio made it out to the car, and Seto had to step out of the way to let Ayame lift Mokuba out of the wheelchair. He was not as tense as he had been for the nurse, but Seto still hated seeing his tiny hand clench in fearful anticipation, the other held in a sling strapped across his chest.

"It's okay, Mokuba. Fuji-san won't hurt you." Seto tried to reassure the frightened child.

Mokuba did not relax, though he turned his eyes to Seto gratefully before he was settled into the car seat. Seto slid in next to him, and couldn't help but notice that Mokuba was still tense, emerald eyes flitting back and forth as he tried to see everything at once.

"Mokuba, I won't let anything hurt you." Seto locked eyes with Mokuba, trying to show the full depths of the love and care he felt for the smaller boy. He couldn't say it - he'd spent too much of his short life holding his emotions in to be at ease with the thought of opening himself up like that - but he wanted, no, he _needed_ Mokuba to know how much Seto cared for him.

Mokuba's eyes were a whirlpool of emotions; fear, hope, and trust were only the few Seto could make out. And then he smiled. Small and shy, it was enough for Seto who smiled back.

X

They made it back to the orphanage in one piece, and went unnoticed as Ayame walked up the path to the door. Seto crossed his fingers, a silent wish for the other kids to be too preoccupied to notice Mokuba, at least for now. He wanted to be able to get the skittish child used to the place and the people before he was overwhelmed by the overeager welcome

To his dismay, what seemed to be the entire orphanage was scattered around the room, almost as if they'd known what he wanted and were going out of their way to make sure it didn't happen. A few heads turned to the door as it opened, watching in relative silence as Seto pushed the wheelchair ahead of him.

And then a girl squealed, and all the girls were out of their seats, crowding round the chair and its tiny occupant. In high-pitched voices, they chattered to each other about how cute he was, and how adorable, and how much they wanted to just pick him up and cuddle him. . . Seto tuned them out in favor of comforting Mokuba. He was stiff, his tiny hands clenched into little fists, his body shaking as he was crowded by over-enthusiastic girls.

"Leave him alone!" Seto pushed his way through the throng until he stood between the chair and the girls. "You're scaring him. Go away."

"Why don't you let him decide?" One of the more vicious girls said, straining to see Mokuba over his head.

"Alright everyone, please back away." Seto had never been so glad to hear Ayame's voice, as the matron waved the girls back. They sprouted full-on pouts, and a few complained, but no one disobeyed. "This is Mokuba. He is not used to so many people, and it is a bit overwhelming. Please try not to frighten him." Ayame then turned to Seto, a frown on her face as she took in his defensive stance, "Seto-kun, why don't you come help me get the empty bed ready for Mokuba. It'll be good for him to get to know the other children." Seto nodded reluctantly, understanding the unspoken words - _give him a chance to make friends_. With a quick, longing glance at the small child, Seto walked away with Ayame, not seeing the wide-eyed look of betrayal and then resignation Mokuba sent towards him.

X

With Seto and Ayame gone, the children converged on the new kid, boys and girls alike. Eager to know more about him, and how he had gotten the standoffish Seto to be so. . . defensive of him, they crowded him. Only a few of the older orphans stayed back, willing to wait for a more opportune moment to approach the child.

Mokuba curled in on himself as much as he could, twisting his head frantically to keep everyone in sight. "Seto. . ._ I need you!_" he whimpered frantically, hoping that the boy would come back and protect him from the crowd.

Seto didn't hear him, but some of the children closest to him did. One boy stared at him, "What's with the freaky talking?"

"It's English, dummy."

"I knew that! Why's he talking English?"

"You think he's foreign?"

"Is he really a boy? He's so pretty." One of the younger girls reached a hand out, wanting to touch his pale skin. Not used to gentleness from anyone other than Seto, Mokuba flinched away, his eyes clenched shut as he tensed. The girl was pulled away by her brother, tears pooling in her eyes.

"Moku-chan?" Mokuba peeked up, seeing a tall blond-streaked brunette looking down at him with a frightening glint in her eyes, "Want to come with me?"

"No. Want Seto."

"What do you want with slimy bookworm Seto? Wouldn't you rather play with your big sister?"

"_Don't make fun of Seto_!" Mokuba glared at her. He hadn't understood everything, but knew that she was insulting his friend. And then it happened. The girl shivered as if cold, her hair turning the same shade of orange as a brand new traffic cone. Realizing what he had done, Mokuba's glare faded, and he pulled away.

"Haruko, your hair!" The outcry drew all eyes to the tall girl, who lifted a hand to her hair in confusion.

It was to this scene that Ayame returned - orange-haired Haruko and her posse glaring daggers into Mokuba, while the rest of the children were either laughing or staring at Mokuba in awe. Mokuba was pushing himself into the chair, as if trying to melt into it, eyes wet with unshed tears, mouth moving in a silent litany.

"What's going on here?"

Haruko glanced up before pointing an accusing finger at Mokuba, "He did something to my hair. Make him fix it!"

Ayame met Mokuba's teary eyes, her face serious, "Mokuba-kun, _what did you do?" _She asked in a calm, but firm voice.

"_I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, it just changed!" _The tears fell, sliding down his face despite his clumsy efforts to wipe them off. "_I'm sorry! I'm sorry." _

"What's he saying? Can he fix it?" Haruko's angry tone silenced Mokuba's frantic apologies, as the boy cowered into the safety of the chair.

"Mokuba-kun. . . " Ayame's felt for Mokuba, but couldn't hide the whisper of worry in the back of her mind. Perhaps it was a freak occurrence, but what if it was more than that? What else could he do? Had his previous caretakers had good reason for getting rid of him? No! She shoved the thoughts aside. No child deserved what had happened to this one. Not even if they were a bit. . . unnatural. "_Can you change Haruko-chan's hair back? No one will be angry with you if it is an accident, so long as you do not do it again."_

The boy peeked over the arm of his chair, "_Not lock me in cu'bo'd?"_

"_Cupboard? "_ Ayame paused, unsure if she had heard right. Mokuba's affirming nod sent a wave of pity through her, and she was quick to reply, "_No. I'm not going to lock you in a cupboard. Not even if you can't change it back."_

Mokuba stared at her with awe, before nodding furiously. "_I fix it. No cu'bo'd."_ With that he squeezed his eyes shut, summoning all of his will to concentrate on the girl's hair not being orange.

After a moment, in which no one moved, it seemed as though nothing would happen. Haruko's hair was still orange. Then, the edges faded back into their original blond-brown. Like a slow wave, the blond streaks over brown hair spread up to the part in her hair, as the children watched with bated breath.

The final strand of orange vanished, and her friends shouted and hugged her. Mokuba slouched in the chair, his eyes heavy with fatigue and his face paler than before. "_I do it?" _He asked, fighting to stay awake.

"Yes, Mokuba-kun. _You did it."_

A small smile crossed the boy's face, the light returning to his eyes for a moment. "Good." It was then, just as Seto returned, that the child lost the fight for consciousness.

"Mokuba!" The older boy ran to the slumped figure of his friend, his eyes wide with imagined horrors. Falling to his knees in front of the chair, Seto examined Mokuba carefully, eventually falling back on asking the matron what had happened when he was unable to find anything physically wrong.

"Mokuba-kun was tired. He. . . " Ayame scanned the room to find a number of the children were still staring, "I'll tell you while we tuck him into bed."

"Did someone do something to him?" Seto asked, watching anxiously as the woman lifted Mokuba out of the chair.

"I don't think so." Ayame carried the child down the hallway, with Seto walking quickly to keep up.

"He's not hurt then? Just asleep?"

"Yes."

Seto closed his eyes, heaving a sigh of relief. "I was worried." He sent a tender gaze to the limp body in Ayame's arms, "Did he make any friends?"

"I think he might have scared the others away." At Seto's wide-eyed astonishment, she expounded, explaining the incident as best she could.

"He changed her hair color? With his mind?" Seto could not believe his ears, giving Ayame a skeptical look even as she nodded. "That's not possible. Stuff like that only happens in books."

"Maybe." Ayame smiled, "Why don't you ask Mokuba-kun when he wakes up?"

Seto frowned, but nodded. He followed the woman into the bedroom, and pulled back the covers of the newly-made bed. It was not a very large bed, but for Mokuba, it seemed much bigger. Seto sat next to the sleeping child and ran his fingers through the dark hair. "I'll stay here, make sure the others don't wake him up."

"I'll try to keep them busy. If anyone gives you trouble, call me."

"Okay." Seto looked up, his blue eyes meeting hers, "Thank you, Fuji-san."

With one final glance over the two boys, Ayame left the room, a smile on her face. Mokuba's innocence was a good influence on the jaded Seto, and Seto's doting care was good for the abused child. Hopefully, together the boys would be able to recover from their hard lives.

Now, all she had to do was make sure that the other children didn't make it harder for them.

* * *

I'm not sure I really like this chapter, but I figure you've waited long enough, and I kind of want to move on.

Questions, Comments? Hated it, Loved it, Think I could have done better?

1-4-13  
I have listed this story as being under indefinite hiatus because I don't want to abandon it, but I can't seem to find the inspiration to continue it. I am trying to get a rewrite going in the hopes that it will reignite my enthusiasm for this story, but I have a number of big projects going at the moment, so it might not happen anytime soon, if ever.

My apologies.

If anyone wants to take this idea and run with it, I wouldn't mind so long as you write your own story and send me a link. :D


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